


Andante, Andante

by mmarkcohenn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic, Drama, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Heavy Angst, Human!Castiel - Freeform, Hunter!Reader, Impala, Love, Love Triangles, Multi, One Night Stand, One Night Stands, Other, Possible smut, Pregnancy, Pregnant, Smut, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, castiel isn't an angel, drunk, hunter reader, later in fic, love square
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-06-17 01:19:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15450198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmarkcohenn/pseuds/mmarkcohenn
Summary: When the reader moves into a new town, she finds herself at the hands of three handsome men. All of whom she spends a night with within a few weeks. Not long into a new hunt, she finds herself pregnant and lost as to who the father is.It's literally Mamma Mia with Supernatural.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw Mamma Mia 2 and I'm obsessed. I had the idea for this fic about halfway through the movie and I needed to write it.

  You ran a hand through your hair.  _ Another town, another name,  _ you thought to yourself. Tossing your old ID into the glove compartment, you grabbed out the cigarette pack and opened it, dumping out the new fake ID’s you had premade years ago.

_ Carly Erikson? No. _

_ Dana Sapowski? No. _

_ Zena Prachett? No. _

_ Olive James? Sure. _

  You grabbed out the cards with her name--well, your new name--on them.

  “I want a drink,” you said to yourself, one hand tapping against the steering wheel.

  You had parked in this new town’s small downtown--if you could even call it that. Ahead of you was a neon flickering sign, for a bar. Getting out, you slipped off your yellow windbreaker and stuck it in the backseat. Tousling your hair, you tried to adjust your bun, but gave up.

  Kicking the car door shut, you started walking towards the brick building. Some people stood outside smoking, and you briefly considered asking to bum a cigarette. But you pushed past the urge and went inside. It was everything you had expected. People who looked like regulars, an old jukebox lit with neon lights, pool tables; weathered women behind the bar, cleaning glasses.

  “Welcome in, hun,” one of them greeted.

  You smiled and went over, taking a seat at the end of the bar.

  “What can I get you?” The closest bartender asked.

  “A scotch with a twist,” you nodded.

  “Can do,” she smiled and made you your drink.

 Without a second to spare, you downed the drink.

  “Another. Please.” You smiled tightly, setting your cup down.

  “Rough day?” She asked.

  “You have no idea.” You sighed, tracing your finger over the edge of the glass.

  “Wanna tell me about it?” A strong voice asked from behind you.

  You blinked and turned around to the voice. A handsome--hell, handsome was an understatement--an absolutely gorgeous man stood there in a well fitted suit. 

  But his looks didn’t cover anything. He was a playboy for sure.

  You scoffed, “you want my sob story, Malibu Ken?” You poked a little fun.

  He smirked.

_ Fuck. _

  “I’d just rather not drink alone, sweetheart.” His voice was smooth like honey spilling out of a jar.

  “I have a hard time imagining that someone like you is drinking alone.” You replied, trying to deny the fact that he made you want to do very naughty things.

  “My partner is researching the case we’re on right now. I’m here to talk to some locals. See if anyone’s heard anything.” He explained.

  You narrowed your eyes and nodded a little, “let me see your badge.”

  He laughed softly and pulled out a small billfold with an FBI ID in it.

  You took it and looked it over.

_ He’s a hunter. _

  It was obvious to you. But you were in the mood to play.

  Handing it back, you smiled sweetly, “okay Agent Spears.” Then patted the stool next to you. “But I don’t want to talk.”

  He took it and stuck it in his pocket, then sat next to you. “No?”

  “Nope,” you popped the ‘p’.

  You grabbed the drink the bartender had set out for you. Downing that one as well, you sat it down with a loud  _ CLANK! _ On the wooden bar top.

  Raising your hand, you grinned, “tequila please!”

  The man next to you smiled and chuckled.

  “You got a first name, Agent Spears?” You glanced at him.

  “Jon,” he nodded. “Well, I prefer Jonathan.”

  It was all bullshit, but you didn’t care.

  “Jon,” you smiled, “I like that.”

  “I didn’t,” he lied. “It was too grown up for me as a kid.”

  “Mmm,” you hummed in agreement. “Poor Jon.”

  “What about you?” He smiled, “what’s your name?”

  You watched him, then the bartender gave you a shot and you took it, keeping eye contact as long as you could before you threw your head back and got it down quick.

  “Keep em coming,” you looked at the woman in front of you, “I’ve got cash and nowhere to be tomorrow.”

  She chuckled and shrugged, pouring a couple of shots for you.

  You nudged one towards Jon and downed another. Slamming the glass down, you grinned at him, “better catch up, Agent.”

  He blinked in surprise and nodded slowly, then took the shot.

  Half a bottle later, you stretched, tugging your hair out of the bun it was in, you shook your hair out--something that definitely caught the attention of the man drinking with you. You tugged your delicate dress shirt out of your fitted jeans (something you were  _ very  _ aware of with “Jon’s” eyes on you). Unbuttoning your shirt, you sighed and tore it off, leaving you in just a too-small tank-top and your ass-hugging jeans. 

  Jon’s eyes travelled down your body, and you smirked. His phone rang and you pretended to not hear it as you grabbed a quarter and went over to the jukebox. 

  “Hello?” You heard him answer.

  “Dean--are you still out?” Another man asked.

  “Yeah,” he shrugged. “I um--I met a girl.”

  “Of course you did,” the other man groaned. “Don’t bring her here. I’ve got everything laid out.”

  “Fine, fine,” he huffed and hung up.

  You smirked and hit Waterloo by ABBA--when it started playing, you started dancing towards Dean. You didn’t want him to know you’d heard the phone call, but you couldn’t help but grin as you held your hands out to him. He grinned and shook his head.

  “I don’t dance,” he laughed softly, biting his lip.

  “Don’t be a party pooper.” You rolled your eyes and wiggled your hands, “c’mon, you can’t resist ABBA.”

  “I think I can,” he shook his head, still laughing.

  You watched him for a minute, your eyes on his lips. Looking at them just long enough to get to him. After a minute or so, you shrugged and smoothed your hands down your front, hooking your fingers through your belt loops. You started dancing by yourself, deciding that you were done fucking with him. Right now, you felt great, and you wanted to feel great as long as possible. 

  Unexpectedly, you felt his hands on your hips, turning you around. You blinked and turned and looked at him--suddenly feeling dizzy. His eyes focused on yours.

  “You were tipping over.” He explained, his hands wrapping around to press against your lower back.

  You had been honest--you had had an  _ awful _ day. And week. And month. And maybe a shitty year. So all you wanted was to have one good night. And, well, the alcohol got the best of you, simply put. So you leaned forward and kissed him, your eyes fluttering shut as you held onto him--your hands gripping his coat. He hesitated for a moment, then kissed you back.

  Finding yourself sobering up quickly, you pulled back and put a few fingers over your mouth, your eyes wide. Something in him changed too, and you could tell that he was feeling sober now too. 

  “Fuck,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ .”

  “Woah--hey,” he laughed softly, “you’re okay, you’re okay.” Dean shook his head, “c’mon, let’s get you back home.”

  “I um--I’m staying at a motel.” You nodded, “I’ve got a car out front.”

  “Let’s get you back there, then,” he smiled and went and grabbed your shirt, then lead you out.

  You got to your car and put your hand on the frame, balancing as you glanced back at him.

  “Where’s your car?” You asked, biting your lip.

  “In the lot,” he pointed across the street, to a very dark lot.

  You looked at his lips again, and mumbled, “fuck it.” Taking quick strides, you slammed into him again, lips crashing together as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

  His arms wrapped around your waist and he grabbed your ass with one hand. You grinned against his lips and pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.

  “So?” You asked, breathing heavily.

  Dean laughed softly and lead you to his car--a beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala.

  You tore your tank-top off as he unlocked the car. The two of you climbed into the car, hands on each other before the doors were even slammed shut.


	2. Chapter 2

  You woke up abruptly, slamming your head into the roof of a car that wasn’t yours. Your hand flew to your head and you groaned, sighing shakily. Under your other hand was the chiseled chest of the man you’d spent the night with--Dean.

  “Shit…” You muttered as you quickly tugged on your clothes and got out, closing the door quietly as you rushed off to your car.

  Thankfully it was only three in the morning, so not too much time had been lost. You reached your car and got in, slamming your hands on the wheel, you screeched at yourself. Never, never, in your entire life had you had a one night stand. But here you were--hell--you had left your panties in his car on accident. It was too late to go back though. You started to drive down the road to the motel you had checked into earlier that day. Thankfully no one was outside to see your walk of shame.

  You got into the room and slammed the door shut behind you. Peeling off your sweat soaked clothes, you rushed to the bathroom and got in the shower, scrubbing the smell of tequila off. Not long after, you fell on the bed, and fell asleep.

  
  


  The next morning you woke up, groaning as the light filtered in and shone over your eyes. You rolled over--right off the bed. For the second time in twenty four hours, you screeched at yourself again, tangling your hands in your hair as you tugged--irritated beyond belief. After a few minutes, you got up and got dressed, sighing softly. You changed your clothes and grabbed your wallet, deciding to walk to the closest coffee shop. 

  Which, thankfully, was across the street. And it was rather empty for eleven on a Saturday, which struck you as odd. You ordered some coffee and went back to your room to read up on the case. 

  A few hours later, once you were well caffeinated and dressed properly, you set out. You first drove to the hospital, where you managed to easily sneak in and go downstairs to the morgue. Something you had learned over your several years was that if you looked like you belonged, no one questioned it. Smiling at everyone, and greeting a few as you walked by managed to get no attention drawn to you. 

  A doctor was down there, so you quickly put on your professional attitude and grabbed your fake ID.

  “Hi,” you smiled charmingly, “I’m with the FBI, Agent--”

  “Oh, another Agent?” The doctor smiled, “wow--I hope you don’t find it inappropriate for me to say, but your smile--it’s one that really just… Lights things up.”

  Your smile became genuine, and you blushed lightly, “thank you.” You put away your badge and chuckled softly, “my partners left behind some paperwork, didn’t they?”

  Your guess was as good as any, since you saw a stack of manila folders waiting on the metal desk near the door.

  “Yes! Well, it wasn’t ready until today.” He shrugged, “feel free to take it.”

  “May I see some of the patients?” You asked as you went back and grabbed the folders, holding them close to your chest.

  “Oh--of course, I was just about to bring out Mr. Harrison.” He nodded and unfolded a blanket from someone on his exam table.

  You noticed the strange bruising and marks, nodding slowly you mentally noted many things about the body--smells (besides the obvious rotting smell there was a hint of sulfur), age of some of the bruises (some were much older than others), and most specifically, the wound pattern. 

  “Thank you,” you smiled as you grabbed one of your fake business cards and handed it over. “If you come across anything, call me, please.”

  “Will do,” the doctor smiled and took your card.

  You left him and rushed back to your car where you let down your hair, groaning softly as you looked at all of the paperwork you suddenly had. Nothing about the body matched any monster you could think of. Maybe it was just a rogue demon who had fun murdering bodies. That was your only guess. 

  You went to the library next, getting all of the most recent newspapers. Taking fast notes, you deduced that it was definitely what you thought. 

  But you didn’t know where or why he was doing it. So you took your notes and papers back to the motel.

  Something you rarely talked about with other hunters--or at all, was that you had gone to college for forensics. And that you’d gone through the training program to become a detective. You’d studied college courses starting in high school, all of them for criminal justice and for forensic science. While you had never finished and gotten your degrees, you had been just weeks from graduation. The last week of your schooling and training, your best friend had been kidnapped by vampires. 

  So you quit everything to find her. And soon enough, you found yourself in the world of monsters and spirits. Things took an unfortunate turn, though; before you could find her, you had run into some trouble with demons, which you didn’t know too much about right away. You heard of crossroad demons and decided to summon one one night. There wasn’t much that you had found out from your research online, so you had decided to go to the source. 

  A beautiful woman had appeared, and offered a deal. But you knew better. Luring her into a demon trap, you kept promising to make a deal, give her your soul for all of the information she could give you about hunting. And it had worked. Once she was in the trap, she crumbled and told you everything she knew. You took as many notes as possible, trying to get all of the information you could.

  You had released her after several hours of talking, promising to not summon anyone again unless you really, really needed something.

  Weeks later, you found the nest they were keeping your friend in. Unfortunately… It was too late. You found her in a heap on the floor, completely drained. And you would’ve been next if you hadn’t acted fast. Sneaking into the nest was the easy part, but getting out was a bit more of a challenge. As you tried to get out, you accidentally crashed into a door in a dark hallway--which obviously made all of the vampires flock to you.

  It had been a hard fight, but you managed to make it out. That night had made you consider if you were cut out for this sort of thing. But something drove you to do it. To continue on and keep fighting these beasts. You hadn’t been doing this long though, and you knew that there was still a lot of things that you needed help doing. While you could be charming and sweet, you often got too emotionally involved in cases.

  Which had been the issue with the last case.

  Which was what made you come here in the first place.

  And already you felt like you had fucked up.

  Back in the motel, you set down the papers on your bed, along with a small map of the town that you had printed out at the library. Taking a red marker, you dotted where the attacks had been, noticing that they were all about five to ten blocks away from three buildings and a house, they seemed to circle them, so you figured you would start there.

  With some simple research, you found out that those three buildings were actually two apartments and one was a bakery with an apartment above it. The house was a small museum of the town. The apartments would be harder to get into, but you figured that they most likely had doors by the trash in the back, and if you waited long enough, you could sneak in after someone got home.


	3. Chapter 3

  The next night, you were pacing the block in front of the first apartment--an old fashioned building with peeling paint. You saw a man approaching with some groceries, and you quickly walked to the door, smiling and waving a little at him.

  “Let me get the door,” you spoke kindly, then started to dig through your purse, pretending to look for keys. Slowly, you started getting more and more frustrated. Finally, you slapped a hand against your forehead and groaned, “I left them on the counter!”

  “Oh,” the man laughed softly, “it’s okay, really, I’ve got it.” He got out his keys, “you’re the new tenant?”

  “Yeah,” you smiled, “which floor do you live on?”

  “Fourth,” he unlocked the door and held it for you.

  “That’s quite the walk,” you bit your lip, “thank you.” You quickly walked in and looked around, trying to survey which apartment could be the newly moved into one.

  “It’s okay,” he shrugged and smiled, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Okay,” you nodded and waved, “bye!”

  He gave you a once-over, eyes flirtatious and shy. Once he was up one flight of stairs, you let out a sigh of relief. The last thing you needed right now was another rendezvous. Quietly walking around, you paused at each door, looking for any sign that your attacker could be there. But after going up through all of the floors, you decided to try the next apartment building. Nothing here seemed out of the ordinary.

  Walking outside, you stuck your hands in your pockets, sighing as you walked down the street. As you started walking back to the motel (it wasn’t too far), you noticed a man sitting on the street, looking rather tired. Something about him was so sad and exhausted, you slowed down, deciding what to do. While standing there, you noticed he was nodding off--and almost fell over, but woke up abruptly and tensed his body.

  It pulled at your heartstrings, and you sighed, going over to him.

  “Are you okay?” You asked, standing a few feet away.

  He blinked slowly--tiredly--and looked up at you, “oh--yes. Yes, just… Tired. It’s an unusual feeling.”

  You nodded a bit and heard his stomach growl. “When was the last time you ate?”

  “Several days,” he sighed, then got up, “I assume you’re here to tell me I’m not allowed to sit here?”

  “What?” You asked, “no, no--I’m just--well… You look miserable, hun.” 

  “I’m fine, I’m just a few blocks from the motel,” he shrugged, “though I’m not sure that that’s the one my friends are in.”

  “Oh honey,” you whispered, shaking your head. “No, c’mon. Let’s get some dinner and you can nap in my room.”

  He blinked in surprise and looked at you cautiously, “why?”

  You sighed softly, “because, I’ve been where you are.”

  Nodding slowly, he bit his lip and rubbed his eyes, “I’m Castiel.”

  “I’m Olive,” you smiled, “there’s a restaurant right around the corner, let’s get you some food.”


	4. Chapter 4

  He made your heart hurt as you watched him eat the food he had reluctantly ordered. Your kindness made him wary, but you tried your hardest to be calm and gentle with him. Castiel ate like he would never see food again, but savoured every bite.

  “This is fantastic,” he spoke softly.

  “It’s alright,” you nodded in agreement.

  He hummed as he took another bite of the sandwich he’d gotten.

  “When was the last time you ate?” You asked again.

  “Well, I’m new to the concept of eating,” he explained.

  You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head, “excuse me?”

  Castiel paused and chewed slowly, thinking hard, “I mean…”

  “That you’re new to eating?” You asked again.

  He cleared his throat and hushed his voice, “I um--I meant that…”

  “You’re not used to being physically exhausted either, are you?” You asked.

  “Well, not exactly. I uh--well, I’ve… Changed. Recently.” He tried to explain.

  “What were you?” You pushed.

  “You won’t believe me,” Castiel shook his head, setting down a chip.

  “Try me,” you leaned forward, “I think some of the stuff I’ve seen would shock you.”

  Castiel narrowed his eyes this time.

  “What do you mean?” He asked.

  “I think you know what I mean,” you shrugged, sitting back.

  After a moment of hesitation, he spoke so only you two could hear.

  “I was an angel.”

  You nodded, not surprised. Though you hadn’t really expected him to be an angel.

  “Okay,” you nodded, “how did you become human?”

  Castiel shrugged.

  “I woke up after talking to a few other angels. I’d never woken up before, so I knew something was wrong.” He explained.

  “Where did you wake up?” You nudged his plate, indicating that you wanted him to finish.

  He continued to eat, thinking for a few moments.

  “San Diego.” He nodded, “I had some money and I called Sam, who told me that they were headed here.”

  “So… You walked?” Your eyes grew wide.

  “Yes, and did something called hitchhiking.” He nodded.

  “Wow,” you played with your hands. “I um--I’m a hunter.”

  Castiel nodded, “my friends are hunters.”

  You sighed and rested your head in your hand.

  “How many hunters are here?” You groaned.

  “Many, most likely,” Castiel guessed, “that’s what Dean said.”

  Your eyes grew wide and you looked at your waiter, who was approaching.

  “Can I have a beer?” You asked quickly.

  “Oh--sure, what kind--”

  “Any.” You shook your head. “Whatever will get me drunk. And fast.”

  Regret washed over you. You usually didn’t drink this much--especially on a case. But hearing that name frightened you.

  “Did I say something?” Cas asked.

  “What?” You laughed, “no. No. Want a beer?”

  “Um, sure,” Castiel nodded, though he was cautious.

  “Great,” you smiled, “two beers. Please. Any kind.”

  He nodded and left you two to get your drinks.

  “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  “Yeah.” You nodded, “just peachy.”

  Cas nodded as well, and continued to eat which did make you feel better.

  About an hour later you and Castiel were in your car, driving to the motel. Once there, you bit your lip and looked at the rooms.

  “They’re here?” You asked.

  “Yes,” Castiel nodded and smiled a bit.

  “Good.” You smiled tightly, “well, um, goodnight.”

  Quickly, you walked to your room and locked the door behind you. Taking deep breaths, you started to get ready for bed. And you slept for a few hours, but woke up at about three in the morning--too awake to sleep anymore.

  Suddenly, you felt like you were being suffocated. So you got up and got your shoes on, then took a walk to the gas station at the end of the block. As you were walking, something grabbed you and tried to drag you into the nearby park.

  Panicking, you pushed it off and started running. But the next moment you were pinned to the ground. Attempting to roll over, you found that you were unable to move. But that didn’t mean you’d give up. As you kicked your legs, you started chanting an exorcism.

  Which made the person on you freeze up. But suddenly, their eyes glowed orange-ish red and the tip of a blade stuck out of his chest.

  Your eyes were wide as you quickly shimmied out from under the body.

  “Are you okay?” A concerned voice asked.

  “Y--Yeah.” You nodded, rubbing your arms.

  You looked up at your saviour--a tall, long haired man.

_ Fuck. _

  “Yeah--Um. Just… Going to get a soda,” you pointed at the gas station, your voice light and shaky.

  “Let me walk you,” he nodded.

  “Okay…” You agreed, closing your eyes tightly for a moment, trying to catch up with what just happened.

  “Hey, you’re alright,” he smiled, trying to be reassuring.

  You nodded and sighed shakily, “yeah. I just… What did you just kill? Why did lights come out of its eyes?”

  “Let’s just say--”

  “Was it a demon?” You asked, “the one committing the murders?”

  He looked at you cautiously.

  “Why do you know that?” He asked.

  “Where’d you get a demon killing knife?” You countered.

  “A demon. Now you.”

  “I’m a hunter.” You shrugged, “I’ve just never had to fight a demon before.”

  “Smart move with the exorcism,” he nodded.

  “Thanks,” you smiled.

  “I’m Sam,” he offered his hand.

  “Olive.” You shook it, “let me buy you a drink or something.”

  “Oh--I’m fine,” he shrugged.

  “No, really,” you smiled, “please?”

  He laughed softly and shrugged, “okay, okay.”

  Sighing in relief, you continued to walk to the gas station, Sam following behind you.

  The name sounded familiar but you were sure that it was nothing.

  At the gas station, you got yourself a drink and a snack. Sam grabbed some water and reluctantly allowed you to pay for it.

  As you walked back, Sam nudged you lightly.

  “You staying in town much longer?”

  “Probably not,” you confessed.

  “Why?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Too many hunters in town.” You shrugged, “and I’d really like to find a place to settle down, y’know?”

  You looked up at him.

  “Quit all this bullshit?”

  “I get that,” he nodded in agreement, “I definitely get that.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll probably stick around and look for a case,” he shrugged.   
  “That’s the life, huh?” You smirked.

  “You bet,” Sam laughed.

  Once you reached the motel, Sam walked you to your door.

  “So…” You bit your lip, “thanks for saving me.”

  “Anytime,” he smiled, rolling the bottle between his hands.

  “You gonna go to bed now?” You asked, biting your lip.

  Sam shrugged, “not really tired.”

  “Me either,” you agreed.

  There was a moment of silence.

  “Wanna come in?” You finally asked.

  Sam thought for a moment and shrugged, “beats the snoring in my room.”

  You laughed lightly and nodded a little, “I can imagine.”

  Opening the door, you stretched, yawning a bit as you set down your bottle of soda.

  You sat on the bed and watched Sam for a moment.

  “What’s that a tattoo of?” You asked, tapping under your collarbone so he knew what you were talking about.

  “Oh,” he tugged his shirt down a bit. “Anti-possession symbol.”

  “Smart,” you smiled, “I’ve got a few, but nothing like that.”

  “What’re yours?” Sam asked, walking over to you slowly.

  “Some ladybugs on my ankle,” you nodded, “my best friends and I got matching ones.”

  “Cute,” he smiled, then sat next to you.

  “I also have a cardinal on my shoulder,” you tapped your left shoulder, “for my great grandma.”

  He nodded and bit his lip, watching you.

  “And I’ve got some sunflowers that go up and down my ribs to my thigh.” You smoothed your hand down your right side.

  “Those sound beautiful,” he ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his face.

  After a moment of hesitation, you couldn’t help but say, “you have beautiful eyes.”

  It took him by surprise, but he burst out in the sweetest grin you’d ever seen.

  “Thanks,” he chuckled, grinning like an absolute dork.

  “Anytime,” you grinned right back at him. “Why were you up tonight?”

  “Couldn’t sleep,” Sam shrugged off his jacket, “thought some fresh air might help.”[

  “Not a bad idea,” you nodded, slowly looking him over.

  Of course, Sam noticed.

  He cleared his throat and smiled, “do you hunt alone?”

  “Yeah,” you nodded.

  “That’s not very safe,” he pointed out.

  “I know,” you smirked and shrugged, “so? What’s it to you?”

  “Maybe I’m just worried about what might happen to you. Like tonight.”

  “I’m a big girl,” you bit your lip, “tie my own sandals and everything.”

  “Did you just make a fucking Hercules reference?” Sam laughed, biting his lip.

  “Did you seriously just catch that reference?” You grinned, falling back on the bed, laughing hard.

  “Who doesn’t like that movie?” Sam smiled at you, leaning back on his arm to be closer to you.

  “That’s fair,” you bit your lip and wiggled a little, finding his stare somewhat distracting.

  Sam’s eyes traced the edge of your face, his gaze slowly moving to your body.

  Though you’d regret it later, you knew it was what you wanted right now.

  “Can I kiss you?” You asked softly, sitting up a little.

  He nodded and leaned closer, you pushed yourself up and met his lips, quickly shifting to sit on his lap.

  
  


  A few hours later, you rolled over and sighed, your hands resting on your chest as you glanced over at Sam, who was staring at the ceiling, breathing hard.

  You laughed softly and kissed his cheek, “I uh--I should probably shower.”

  “Mind if I join you?” He joked lightly, grinning like a fucking dork.

  You got up and offered him your hand, grinning just as much, “c’mon.”


	5. Chapter 5

  The two of you had fallen asleep on top of each other, tangled in one another’s arms. When you woke up, you stared at Sam--resting your head on his chest, you sighed softly and traced along his tattoo. After a few minutes, Sam blinked a few times and looked at you, smiling.

  “Hi,” he smile.

  “Hi,” you bit your lip and kept tracing, “are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” Sam nodded, “are you?”

  “Yeah,” you nodded and shrugged, “I just uh, I don’t know. I feel weird.”

  “You feel weird?” He tilted his head a bit and played with your hair.

  “Yeah.” You sighed a little and shrugged, “I don’t know.” 

  You got up and got dressed, sighing softly. Something about Sam was different, and you hated that. It’s not that you hated him, it’s just that you didn’t really want to deal with the feelings crap. And he made you feel full of feelings.

  It was early in the morning--descriptions weren’t your forte at this moment. 

  Sam sat up and watched you, able to tell that you were tense.

  “What’s going on?” He asked, getting up to go over to you.

  “I think I’m gonna leave town today,” you nodded, not looking at him.

  “Oh,” he spoke softly, “well--I um. I kinda was thinking maybe it’d be better if you stayed.”

  You shrugged, tugging your shirt over your head.

  “Y’know, I was serious last night.” Sam bit his lip and lightly brushed your arm, “I don’t think it’s very safe for you to be hunting alone.”

  “Yeah,” you nodded, “yeah, yeah, fair point. But uh--consider this: I’ve been hunting alone for a while now, and up until last night, I was doing pretty okay.”

  Sam pulled your chin up and made you meet his eyes.

  “One minute later and you would’ve been dead meat.”

  You hesitated, and gently pulled away, getting your overalls on. “Y’know, I just--” You laughed softly as you spoke, “I can’t keep doing this to myself.”

  “Doing what?” Sam asked, staying where he was.

  “Swindling handsome strangers into my bed,” you smiled sadly, “and then get fucking attached in less than twenty-four hours.” 

  “So stay,” he pulled up the front of your overalls and took the strap out of your hand. “Hunt with us.”

  “I can’t,” you shook your head as he put the button through the loop. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” Sam asked, meeting your eyes again.

  “Please don’t make this harder,” you groaned, buttoning the other side. “I really--really, can’t deal with this.”

  Sam was quiet for a moment, watching you closely.

  “What’re you hiding?” He nearly whispered, his hands moving to your hips. “What’re you running from?”

  You opened your mouth, trying to think for a moment. Your hands rested on top of his, your eyes closed as you tried to think. “Myself.”

  Walking past Sam, you started to gather your things--stuffing them into a backpack and duffle bag that lay in the corner of your room.

  Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, and started to get dressed as well. 

  “Will you at least stay in contact?” He asked, “so I know you’re alive?”

  You looked at him, thinking for a moment. With a sigh, you set down your backpack on the bed and tugged a simple gold band off your pointer finger.

  “Give me your hand.” You held out your own, waiting patiently.

  He held out his hand, and you pressed the ring into his palm, closing his fingers around it.

  “We’ll meet again, Sam,” you spoke gently, “I promise.”

  “When?” He asked, squeezing the ring tightly.

  Thinking for a moment, you sighed, “I--I don’t know.” You held your breath as you closed your eyes, finally deciding, “a month.”

  “A month?”

  “In a month we’ll meet in Oregon.” You looked up at him, “and you’ll give this back to me.”

  He sighed, but reluctantly agreed, “fine.”

  
  


  Sam had gone back to his room a while ago, and you were finally loading everything in your car. As you were about to get in, Castiel came out of his room with a bag and scanned the lot--smiling a bit when he saw you.

  “Hold on,” he asked, rushing down the flight of squeaky, rust covered stairs.

  “What?” You raised an eyebrow and looked at him.

  “Could you drop me off at the bus station? I’ve got to go to a friend’s and Dean’s going the other way.”

  You considered it for a moment, but finally nodded and sighed, “get in.”

  Castiel got in, and within minutes, you two were off. The drive to the bus station wasn’t awful, it was about an hour though. Which was mostly filled with silence. About ten minutes away from the station, he struck up a conversation.

  “You’re tense.” His eyes were focused on your hands, which were balled into fists on the steering wheel.

  “Yeah,” you nodded, glancing at him, “so?”

  “Well… It’s not good for humans to be tense.” Cas tried to connect the dots. “So… Why are you?”

  “There’s just a lot going on, honey,” you smiled tightly, tapping the wheel as you rolled to a stop.

  “Can I help?” He offered.

  “Can you shoot me?” You joked lightly, pressing the gas when the light turned green.

  “Why would I do that?” Castiel blinked in surprise, “that would most likely--”

  “A joke.” You cut him off, “it was a joke.”

  “Oh.” His eyebrows furrowed together--considering it for a moment. “It’s not a funny one.”

  “Some jokes aren’t funny,” you shrugged, “but no, no, I don’t think you can do anything for me.”

  He sighed softly, and looked at his hands. After a moment, he placed a hand on your thigh--an attempt at comfort. 

  “I hope it gets better.”

  You looked at him, watching him for a good minute. He smiled warmly, trying his best to keep it upbeat. Taking his hand off your thigh, you held onto it and squeezed it, sighing shakily as you pulled up to the bus station.

  Both of you got out, and went inside. Cas went up to buy a ticket, and clearly had a little trouble explaining what he wanted, so you went up behind him and helped. Walking him back outside, you bit your lip and pulled him into a tight hug.

  “Want me to stay with you while you wait for your bus?” You asked, hugging him tightly.

  “No, that’s alright.” He stood there, arms limp.

  “Wrap your arms around me. Do people not hug you?” You laughed sadly.

  “Oh.” Cas fixed what he was doing, “not often.”

  The two of you held it for another moment before you both let go.

  “Well… I’m gonna stay with you anyways.” You swallowed hard, watching him intently.

  Something about Castiel made you so sad. He was a lost puppy and Dean had just sent him on his way to the bus? That made no sense. What could be more important than helping a friend? As you two waited, you took Cas’s hand again and held it tightly.

  “You’ll stay safe?” Castiel asked you out of the blue.

  “What?” You asked, blinking in surprise.

  “Hunting.” He clarified. “You’ll stay safe?”

  “Oh.” You nodded, thinking for a moment, “um--yeah. Yes. Yes, I will.” 

  “Good. It was nice to meet you, Olive.” He smiled again.

  You nodded and squeezed his hand one more time, about to let it go when you paused. Something lately was making you insane. You were sure of it. Everything was a crazy idea to you, and you couldn’t help but try to talk yourself out of your current urge. But at the same time, you knew you were insatiable and stubborn. After hesitating for a moment, you kissed him.

_ I have got to stop this. _

  He didn’t pull back right away, in fact, he seemed to move in closer to you. Pulling back at the same time, you two looked around--no one seemed to be here.

  “Oh god,” you whispered.

  He shook his head, “I’m Castiel.”

  You laughed and dragged him to the bathroom that was attached the bus station and pulled him inside, kissing him again. This time, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, his own hands started to wander.

  
  
  


  Twenty minutes later, he was on a bus, and you were in your car. Letting your head fall to hit the steering wheel, you laughed softly, shaking your head.

_ Fuck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic is going faster than I thought. But hey! You guys are enjoying it and that's what matters.


	6. Chapter 6

  You never met Sam after a month had passed. Managing to get his phone number from a few other hunters, you kept calling and postponing it. Saying just a few more weeks, or one more month. Regardless, you didn’t see him after that first time.

  But that was the last thing on your mind as you stalked the paths in a railyard. Keeping close to the trains, you held your gun close to your body--ready to shoot. A ghost had been luring people to their deaths here, and you knew that some part of him was still here. In your research, you had found that a man had been brought here sometime in the 1960’s, and had narrowly escaped getting hit by a train car. But he’d crushed his foot in his escape.

  Trying to get to safety, you read that a local gang had found him and beat him to death. They had tossed his body somewhere, and later, after it had been found, they realized he was missing several teeth. You hated that this was all you could find, but it was a lead nonetheless. Nearby was the lot they found him in, a small shack was built on it, and that’s where the gang had hid his body. 

  You heard voices and grew tense. Crouching down, you looked under the train cars to see if you could see any feet. But there was nothing near you. As you stood up, you realized you were face to face with a bloody, beaten figure. Before you could react, he charged you--flying right through you. It caught you off guard, and you stumbled--your mind foggy. Your chest hurt like you had just sucked in ice cold water without warning. 

  Reaching out blindly, you steadied yourself on the car next to you. But you didn’t have long. Overestimating yourself, you turned and looked around--seeing that the figure was now a few rails over. You sprinted (slowly) towards him, seeing the field with the shack behind him. You tripped over the edge of one of the rails, and fell flat on the rocks beneath you.

  “Fuck,” you groaned, your hand going to your head, where you could feel blood dripping out of.

  Trying to brush it off, you attempted to get up but noticed your ankle couldn’t bear much weight. 

  “No!” You shouted, as if it would fix you.

  The ghost charged you again, knocking you to the ground.

  “Hey!” A familiar voice shouted.

  Too tired to look, you just closed your eyes and whimpered, body shuddering a bit as you held back tears of frustration.

  “Woah--Cas, get over here!” Another voice shouted.

  Suddenly, your body was being picked up. Your eyes flew open and you struggled to reach for your gun--thinking it was someone trying to get you. But you were greeted by Sam’s eyes, concerned and fearful. 

  “What the fuck, Olive?” He asked, “I told you this would happen.”

  His voice was worried rather than I-told-you-so.

  “Sam?” You asked, dropping your gun.

  “C’mon, we’ve gotta get you out of here.” He maneuvered you a bit and then picked you up, holding you close to his chest.

  “Olive?” Dean asked as he got closer to you two.

  You groaned and hid your face, not wanting to deal with this.

  “You know her?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah,” he nodded and shrugged, “it doesn’t matter--let’s just get her out of here.”

  
  


  An hour later, you were sitting in a motel room with Dean, Sam, and Castiel sitting around you. The cut on your head wasn’t too big, a small bandage worked perfectly fine once Sam cleaned it off. Your ankle had some ice on it for now--at least till the swelling went down. 

  “What happened?” Dean finally asked, breaking the long silence that had spread between the four of you.

  “I had a headrush or something,” you shrugged, looking at your hands. “I don’t know. I haven’t been feeling good lately.”

  “So you decided to go and hunt a ghost by yourself?” Sam tried to clarify your bad idea.

  “Sometimes people feel shitty,” you shrugged, “I figured I just have a cold or something.”

  Sam watched you for a moment, then gently put the back of his hand to your forehead. He sighed and shrugged.

  “I mean--maybe.” He sat on the other bed.

  You struggled to keep your eyes open, “can I please go? I’ve got stuff to do.”

  “You’re not going anywhere like this,” Dean shook his head and patted your leg. “Not in the shape you’re in.”

  Rolling your eyes, you shook your head and looked at Cas, who was quiet.

  “You’re not gonna lecture me too, are you?” You asked.

  He shook his head, “I’m just worried.”

  You bit your lip and looked between all of them, “y’know, I’ve suffered worse on my own.”

  “I can imagine,” Dean nodded, “but not tonight. You’re gonna stay with us.”

  “I’m not a child,” you laughed, shaking your head, “I can handle myself.”

  “Apparently not.” Dean argued, “you don’t get to fight this. We’ll take care of the ghost, you and Cas stay here.”

  You huffed and fell back on the bed. “Fine.”

  Sam and Dean reluctantly got up and grabbed their things, both of them looking back at you before they left.

  Closing your eyes, you held out your hand to Cas, “can you come here?”

  He moved next to you, sitting along the edge of the bed.

  “How’re you, honey?” You asked, trying your hardest to stay awake.

  “I’m okay,” he nodded, “you should sleep.”

  “No, no, it’s fine,” you shook your head, “I can… I can stay awake.”

  Castiel shook his head and got up, grabbing the blanket off the other bed, he put it over you.

  “Let us help, please.” He pressed lightly.

  You sighed deeply and bit your lip, considering it for a moment.

  “Okay.”


	7. Chapter 7

  The next day, you were in a local pharmacy picking out something for the migraine that had been haunting you since last night. Your ankle was better--twisted--but better. Cas and Sam were getting snacks for the road, and Dean was looking at magazines. You walked the aisles, trying to think of anything else you needed.

_ Band-aids? No. _

_ Saline solution? No. _

  As you walked, you passed the aisle with pads and tampons in it, and you paused. Counting back days turned into weeks. Which turned into about a month and a half.

  Your eyes grew wide.

  Dropping everything else onto a little table near the bathroom door, you grabbed a pack of pregnancy tests and headed in. Reading the instructions carefully (because while you were panicking, you knew this had to be done right), you took out the tests and took them. Putting the caps back on and setting them down on the counter, you waited. Pacing the small bathroom, you took deep breaths, trying not to freak out.

  The sudden stress made you feel worse, like you could throw up--which didn’t help your thought process. After three minutes passed, you looked at the tests.

_ Fuck. _


	8. Chapter 8

  Walking out of the bathroom, you stuffed the tests in your pocket and quickly went and paid, throwing the box away before the boys could see it. You went to the Impala and leaned against it, trying to hold back tears. This couldn’t be happening. Not now.

  A few minutes later, the boys walked out of the pharmacy and blinked in surprise when they saw you.

  “Oh, here you are,” Cas nodded as he walked over to the Impala, holding several bags.

  “We were looking for you,” Dean added as he got in.

  “You okay?” Sam asked, sensing that something was wrong.

  “I need to go to a doctor.” You said flatly, not looking at any of them, “now.”

  Sam and Cas shared a look, but nodded slowly.

  “Okay, um, well--I know someone an hour away who can help us.” Sam offered, “why?”

  “Nothing.” You got in the Impala and set your bag between your feet, resting your head on the seat in front of you.

  The other two got in, and Sam whispered something to Dean.

  He glanced back at you and shrugged, but started driving.

  
  
  


  An hour later, you were in front of an urgent care.

  “Stay here.” You said quickly, going inside.

  Sam got out and followed you anyways.

  “I said wait,” you huffed, clenching your hands.

  “You’ll need my help.” He shook his head and went inside with you.

  “Oh, Sam,” a nurse behind the counter said right away, looking between you two, “what do you need?”

  He shrugged a little and looked at you.

  You looked up at him and to the nurse, clearing your throat, you took a deep breath. “I need you to test for something.”

  Sam watched you for a moment, but shrugged and shook his head, “I’ll be in the Impala.”

  Once he was out the door, you handed her the tests you’d taken, “I need to know for sure.”

  “Well, honey, most tests are fairly accurate. Especially since you have  _ two _ positive tests.” She shook her head.

  “Please.” You begged, biting your lip, “I just--I need to be sure.”

  She sighed and brought you back. The nurse--Erica--made you do the usual pee in a cup situation, but she also took a bit of blood, mostly because she could tell that the prior wasn’t satisfying you. The first test came back positive, and she told you the other would take a few hours or up to a day to get back.

  Dean was inside when you came out, watching a news report in the waiting room.

  You took a deep breath and went up to him, “c’mon, we can go.”

  “Everything okay?” He asked as he got up.

  “No.” You shook your head, “well--no, no, it’s fine. I can--it’s fine.”

  He bit his lip and lead you back outside. For the first time, you leaned into him, appreciating that he was holding you close.

  Starting to drive again, everyone was silent. Dean drove back to the freeway.

  “Where are we going?” Cas asked.

  “The Roadhouse,” Dean nodded, “just for a few days.”

  The drive was long, and before you knew it, you received a call.

  “Olive? This is Erica.” She said once you answered, “you’re definitely pregnant.”


	9. Chapter 9

   You carefully packed your bag, being quiet as to avoid waking up any of the boys. Split between two rooms, you had one to yourself (thankfully) and you had peeked into the other one to make sure they were all asleep. Once packed, you grabbed your bag and headed out.

  But you must have seen a shadow, because Sam was standing outside your room, leaning against the railing of the balcony. 

  Your eyes grew wide as you opened your mouth, trying to figure out how to explain what you were doing.

  Sam turned to you and raised an eyebrow, glancing at your bag. “Were you leaving?”

  “I… um…” You swallowed hard and bit your lip, but suddenly you were breaking down. You shook your head and sniffed, tears starting to well in your eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Sam. I don’t—I’m fucking—I—I’m so fucking tired.” 

  “Wait—what?” He asked, “slow down, what’s going on? You’ve been so off lately we’ve gotta—just… okay.” Sam took a deep breath and shook his head, “what’s going on?”

  Taking a deep breath, you confessed, “I’m pregnant.”

  He paused, and then nodded slowly, thinking. “Oh.”

  “But—um…” You shook your head, “that’s not the worst part?”

  “What’s the worst part?” Sam asked cautiously.

  “I don’t… I slept with all three of you and I don’t know who’s the father.” You confessed, starting to cry.

  Sam nodded slowly, swallowing hard, “that’s… Pretty terrible.” He agreed, but after thinking for a moment, he pulled you against his chest and hugged you tightly. “But hey--we’re all apart of this. We’re all at fault here. It’s gonna be okay.”

  “But what if it isn’t, Sam? What if Dean or Cas freaks out and demand that I get rid of it?” You shook your head, “I--I can’t go through that again.”

  He hugged you tightly, shaking his head, “I’ll talk to them, okay? If either of them freak out I’ll calm them down and make them understand what you’re dealing with, okay?”

  You nodded a bit and nuzzled into his chest, taking a deep breath to try and calm down.

  “But… Running away isn’t the right thing to do. You would’ve made us all worried sick. Even if you think you would’ve been helping… We would’ve just started looking for you to make sure you were still alive and healthy. And surprising us with a baby… Well, that’d be kinda shitty.” Sam ran his hand through your hair, “so you gotta promise not to run away, okay?”

  “Okay,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

  “Did you sleep okay?” Sam asked, rubbing his hand in a circle on your back.

  “No,” you shook your head, “I couldn’t sleep--I just kept thinking about…”

  “I understand.” He nodded, staying quiet for a moment. A thought occurred though, and he gently pulled your chin up, “what do you mean ‘go through that again’?”

  You turned red and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before you looked both ways, “can we talk about this inside?”

  “Of course,” Sam nodded, and let go of you.

  The two of you went back into the hotel room, and Sam--sensing your hesitation--closed the door that connected the rooms.

  “Thank you,” you spoke softly as you sat on the edge of the bed, “so… I need you to not tell anyone, okay?” You looked up at your counterpart, wringing your hands nervously.

  “Of course,” he nodded, then took a seat next to you.

  “I’ve…” Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and launched into it, “I’ve been on the road since I was about fifteen.” You confessed, “I left my home because my parents are--well,  _ were _ \--shitty. They were just too busy with work to ever take care of me or show me the time of day. And one night we um--well, this guy showed up to our house. Talking about something bigger than us--bigger than him--something was coming to get us. And my parents just… They didn’t care. So they locked the door and told me to go to bed. But that man, he--” You shook your head, taking a shaky breath. “He stood outside our house all night.”

  “And?” Sam prompted.

  “And the next morning I woke up and expected my parents to be gone, but something just felt wrong. So I went to their room, and there they were--in bed, a bloody mess.” You nodded, coughing a bit to clear your throat. “And that was that. I couldn’t stay there--not after my parents were murdered by some psycho. It turned out that we uh--we had a demon living in our basement.” You rubbed your forehead, “we had a crawl space and that’s where they were staying.”

  “What about that guy?” Sam asked.

  “Well, I don’t really know. I uh--I grabbed some stuff and fled, y’know? I got to the highway before someone picked me up. And everywhere I looked, he was there. He was like some demented guardian angel. I would look in the rearview mirror, and he’d be there, in the car behind me--watching. He’d be at the foot of my bed, or--or just on the other side of the street. Always close, always watching.” You shrugged, your hands shaking a little. “So, it was kidna no surprise that the first monster I ran into, he saved me from.”

  “And what was the first monster you found?” Sam nudged.

  “A werewolf.” You nodded, “I uh--I met this boy while travelling and he was so charming and sweet. We went walking in a park and uh--well, let’s just say the park is more secluded and private than you think.” You blushed, “and after we had… Y’know, done stuff, he started looking really sick and before you knew it, he had uh, well, he’d turned into a werewolf.” Shrugging a bit, you played with your hands, “and just as he was about to attack me, this guy who’d been following me came out of nowhere and just… Killed him.”

  Sam nodded slowly, watching you closely.

  “And I mean--when you’re seventeen and in the heat of things, you kind of look at people differently. And well, he offered me his hand and he rushed us out of the park--we ended up back at his motel and… One thing lead to another and uh, we kinda fucked.” You were bright red at the confession, “but the next morning he was gone, I was alone. A month or so later and I was staring at the positive end of a pregnancy test.”

  “So you got rid of it?” Sam question, his voice soft.

  “I was so sick at the time,” you shook your head, “I couldn’t afford to go to a doctor, I couldn’t call anyone, y’know? So I did the next best thing. I went to a police station and told them my parents had been murdered years ago and I’d just escaped from an insane person’s grasp. I told them where a murderous witch was and they didn’t question it. Everyone in my town knew my parents had been killed, and everyone assumed I’d been kidnapped. So I went back to town and got the funds from my parent’s life insurance, things were okay for a while. Until suddenly everyone in town acted like I was this taboo subject--I was like Bloody Mary. You say my name three times and I appear--y’know? So I left. Started hunting. And now I’m here. With another pregnancy. And three potential fathers.”

  Sam nodded slowly and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, after a moment of thinking, he finally said, “y’know, I may be speaking beyond my rights but I think if there’s anyone who could be the three potential fathers of this kid, you’ve got some pretty great guys who may be it.”

  His comment made you smile, and you nodded, “yeah--you’ve got a point.”

  You looked up at him, watching his eyes for a few moments before you reached up and kissed him, placing a hand along his cheek to pull him closer.


End file.
